


Chef Queen

by DMichelleWrites



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6935548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles where Felicity insists on learning how to cook. Cooking is like a science, and she could master that easily. Right? Find out how multiple cooking lessons go with her master chef of a husband, Oliver and their friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson 1: Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> [ Full banana pumpkin pancake recipe](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/240724/healthy-pumpkin-banana-pancakes-paleo-option/)

( _Originally via 401 "Green Arrow"_ )

Oliver was about to head home from his six mile morning jog around Starling National Park. His and Felicity's new neighborhood wasn't as creepily pleasant as Ivy Town, but he had to admit it was kind of nice living in suburbia. Thankfully, their home wasn't too far away from Thea's loft on Merced Boulevard, much to her displeasure. Tree leaves rustled as Oliver had just ran out from the lush green, woodsy area. He used to say music was a distraction, but now in these times of peace, he found that it got his adrenaline pumping.

With Ryan Adams songs pulsing on his earbuds, Oliver almost missed his neighbor, Ben ask, "How ya doin'?"

"Morning," He waved with a big toothy grin on his face.

He slowed down as he reached their light blue home, passing by the fern Felicity got them when they first moved into this place on Archer Avenue. Panting slightly, Oliver removed his hoodie when he walked into the side entrance of the kitchen. Permagrin plastered on his face, he simply stood by their honeymoon photos. Well, the ones they could share with their friends and family at least from Bali. Oliver watched Felicity trying to multitask. She was sitting on the counter top closest to the stove while she read another _Bread & Butters_ cookbook by Tara B. Guggenheim.

"Hey." Felicity greeted, stretching out the word. Her face lit up with an equally deliriously happy grin as she scooted off the counter with a sizzling skillet in hand.

"Hey." Oliver replied, trying to hide the frown at what was coming next. As his wife spooned him a piece of her freshly cooked omelette. In a tone slightly higher than his normal voice he breathed, "Oh, okay."

"Hot, hot, hot," Her husband commented while severely burnt egg insulted his taste buds, echoed by Felicity's "Hot? Sorry, I should've blown on it."

After multiple slow chews coupled with clicks of his tongue he gulped it down.

Felicity hoped, "Well?"

His reply was wordless. Oliver's lips grazed her hair, and he offered her a charming smile. It was difficult for him to stop doing that with crime rates down. Thea tended to tease him about every weekend when she came over for dinner.

"Really?" His wife disbelieved when her lips fell into a grimace.

"Yeah."

Oliver squeezed her shoulder slightly while he planted another soft kiss to Felicity's dark roots.

"You know?" Felicity muttered while she strode over to the trash bin, "I still think it's criminal how easily cooking has come to you."

Her omelette plopped into the can. She didn't fail to notice how the bottom of her unsuccessful egg dish matched the dark shade of the garbage bag.

"Well, I just like to keep expanding my skills from the island." Her husband reminded, "Which was usually cooked... and _uncooked_."

His mind briefly flashed to a time on Lian Yu when he snatched bamboo from a large, wild sleeping panda as he went to fetch some more eggs from the fridge. He was surprised to discover that there were two eggs left. His wife could go through multiple cartons in a single attempt to cook one large omelette for them to share during breakfast.

"One of these days I swear I'm gonna get this whole wife thing down."

He chuckled, "You do have this whole wife thing down. You said yes more than once. We finally made it under the chuppah and said our real vows. We come home to each other every night, and most importantly you love me. And that makes me one of the happiest men on Earth So see, our marriage is working out pretty well so far. Don't you think?"

"Yeah, you big sap. But it's like it physically pains me I can't make my husband and my stepson one decent homemade breakfast." She told him, her chin resting on the crook of his neck while her dark pink tinted lip balm coated his skin. "I'm your wife, I should be able to cook you something from scratch."

An eyebrow quirked, "Felicity, Honey. This isn't the _Stepford_ _Wives_ , and it's not the 1950's. It's not like I expect you to be June Cleaver or Aunt Bea. It's the 21st century."

"Wow, I'm shocked that you were able to make so many old-school pop culture references in one sentence."

"Well, Thea may have filled me in the _Stepford Wives_ one after she and Laurel tracked us down in Ivy Town." Oliver admitted, a slight blush warmed his cheeks.

Felicity insisted, stomping her foot adamantly, "Still, I have to learn how to cook."

He quickly whipped up a couple banana pancakes.

"Oh yeah? Why are so Hellbent on learning how to cook? You're amazing at so many other things. Felicity Queen, you are one of the most remarkable women I have ever met. You're the best. You're smart, kind, sexy, so who cares if you can't cook. I don't mind doing all the cooking from now until I'm eighty-six as long as I get to spend each of those meals with you."

"That's really sweet, Oliver. But it doesn't make me a better cook. I really wanna learn how to make something, _anything_."

While he plated one large banana pancake for them to split, complete with cut up strawberries for garnish. Oliver wondered, "And just why is it so important for to learn how to cook? C'mon it's not just about cooking for me or William."

"Cooking is a science. It's basically food chemistry. I can graduate from MIT with two Master's degrees at nineteen, but I can't make a simple omelette for the two of us?" She responded while she speared a bite of pancake with her fork.

Ah, there it was. This was a matter of Felicity's pride. Yet, there was more to the story. Oliver just knew it.

"Why else does it bother you, Felicity?"

She groaned. Did he have to know her so well? Although, of course he did. They're married.

"The Susie Homemaker stay-at-home moms down the street can't stop themselves from making their bitchy little whispers like I can't hear them." Felicity finally admitted, "And when we ran into Julie and Ben at the Farmer's Market last Saturday, you were grinning from ear to ear. You two were swapping tips on how to make chocolate souffle. It made made me jealous. Ugh. Oh God, it felt like I was in high school again. I mean it's good I was able to graduate early, but still..."

His calloused hand blanketed hers as he assured, "Felicity, you know just because Julie makes one Hell of a chocolate souffle doesn't mean that I'm in love with her. I just love her food because she's a professional chef, but you will always be my girl. Remember you're kind of stuck with me."

"I know." A small giggle bubbled up out of Felicity, quelling some her frustration, "I just hate knowing there's something out there, something that should be so easy, that I can't do."

Oliver reminded while his hand moved to her knee, "Hey, cooking is not as easy it looks."

"So why don't you teach me?" She suggested, "I mean ever since we started dating our life has been a never-ending episode of _Masterchef_. What do you say, Hon?"

His eyes fell shut just as he took in one deep breath until felt a light smack to his arm. "Ow! Okay." This was another decision he might regret like the PA system in the Arrowcave, but he didn't think about much as his fingertips kneaded over his bicep.

"Yes!" His wife cheered, even throwing in a little fist pump, "Souffles, here I come. And those annoying winos can shut it after they taste my awesome dessert."

He advised, "Woah, woah. Hold on a sec. This shouldn't be about revenge. If I'm gonna teach you, I want you to _want_ to learn about cooking, baking, and food."

"Hi, have we met?" Felicity teased playfully, "I was an A+ student with the exception of P.E. You know I love learning, and learning to cook means more time with you. As if we didn't see each other enough already, but still this is gonna be fun for both us."

Her husband recommended, "Then, you have to free your mind before you can use the Force, young Padawan. In other words, no souffles yet, Honey."

"My excitement for the fact that you just made a completely correct _Star Wars_ reference is only slightly undercut by your lack of faith in me."

"A) We watched _The Force Awakens_ together on movie date nights multiple times in a row because you said, and I quote, 'True _Star Wars_ fans would have to see the movies more than once. They're just _that_ good, Oliver'. B) I told you about my lightsaber fights with Tommy when we were six and how Thea wanted an ewok and a hippogriff from _Harry_ _Potter_ as pets when she was younger. I'm not immune to pop culture. C) I always have faith in you. I just wanted to work with your skills. So let's start with something a little easier."

"Okay. What did you have in mind, _my love_?" She inquired, somewhat tense because she really believed she could go right into baking souffles.

Oliver informed, "My homemade banana pumpkin pancakes. Tomorrow morning. It'll be perfect for breakfast."

"Deal," Felicity shook his hand just before Oliver sneakily pulled her into a kiss, even though he was all sweaty. His usually minty breath muddled with morning funk and coffee.

Next morning, they met up again the stove. Oliver and Felicity took off their rings just in case things got messy. With his wife in the heart of the kitchen, he was never sure how someone so small could make such a large mess. Her eyes were keen to a swift rip of paper from his green, usually private journal.

He offered her his own recipe, "Here you go."

"That's what you keep in here? Recipes?" The amusement in her voice couldn't be hidden, especially not with her adorably breathy giggle.

"Among other things. Start reading." Oliver urged.

She appeased, "Okay, okay. _Bossy_."

"You love it." His tone nearly matched his voice modulator in the Green Arrow suit.

Felicity agreed simply, "Mmm," as she initially grabbed a mixing bowl.

"Careful, Hon." Oliver reminded in a tone usually reserved for Thea as Felicity grabbed a freshly peeled banana and a rather sharp knife, "Remember to watch your fingers before you end up like Malcolm."

"I know I know. I'm not a child, Oliver." His wife hissed when she looked back down at her cutting board, seeing that she nicked her index finger, "Ow! Son of a bitch that stings. Honey, you distracted me from my food."

"Wash off your hand and rinse the cutting board. Then I'll get you another banana and a bandage."

She did just that. When he came back from the hall closet, she sort of wished it was her middle finger. So she could wipe that cocky little grin off his face. Just because he was better than her at one thing, he didn't have to gloat

"You're lucky that look is cute on you, Chef Queen."

He laughed, the audacity of him, "You're cute when you're frustrated."

"Is that why you like frustrating me in bed so much?"

Thank God, William wasn't here this weekend to hear what she had just blurted out. It would spell laughter and questions galore.

"Yes." Her husband acknowledged, "You're still cute, and besides that you know it's all worth it in the end."

"Mmm, are we talking about food or sex?" She quizzed with a little lip bite. Was the kitchen getting warm, or was that just her? Scratch that, she hadn't even turned on the stove yet.

"Felicity, focus."

She got back to chopping the banana, "Right. I can do this. I can do this. I can _so totally_ do this."

"Yes, you can." Oliver believed.

The bananas were chopped, and the pumpkin puree was scooped out of the can. Normally, Oliver liked to use fresh pumpkin after he roasted and sweetened it to his liking, but he knew the canned stuff would be much easier for his wife to handle. His instructions were, "Beat banana, pumpkin puree, flour, eggs, honey, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and nutmeg together in a bowl until smooth."

"See no lumps." His wife stated proudly even showing him the bowl, "We're off to a good start."

"Mmm hmm," he agreed, knowing the beginning would be the easy part.

"Heat a lightly oiled pa over medium heat. Drop batter by small spoonfuls onto the pan to form one and a half inch pancake." She muttered aloud, reading his instructions carefully. "Pfft, this is too easy."  


Oliver warmed, noticing the smell and that the batter was way past bubbling at the edges, "Felicity, flip it." His gaze was fixated on Felicity's face. It was adorned with such a sense of joy and pride as opposed to what she was doing.

She immediately did. Unfortunately, much like her omelette yesterday, they were already blackened at the bottom.

"You ever try Cajun pancakes?" Felicity joked, trying to hide her disappointment. She failed, or at least she felt like she did when she mumbled, "Damn it," under her breath.

"It's alright." His hands massaged her shoulders, "Let's try again. We have all day and a kitchen full of ingredients."

Thankfully, it didn't take all day. However, it certainly took more than two tries. By her third attempt, Felicity finally two successful and only slightly misshapen pumpkin banana pancakes. By hey, this was a home kitchen not a five-star Michelin restaurant.

She paused after she fed her husband a bite, "Well? What do you think?"

It sure looked like Oliver didn't forcibly gulp her food down like yesterday.

"Felicity, that was amazing. You did it. Good work." He smiled while he leaned over to her.

Felicity's eyes closed, lips puckered. When she did feel her husband's usually morning, she noticed that he was snagging a second bite of pancakes. Well, that never happened until now.

"Hey. Wait 'til I plate those up, mister."

Her pecked her lips before he said, "Sorry."

"So when do I get to make souffles?" Her mouth was mere centimeters apart from his

Oliver thought about it. This could be fun, and less work for him around the kitchen sometimes. Cooking was a great stress-reliever for him, but having Felicity cook with him could be even more fun.

"Soon." Her husband asked, "Feel like watching _Food Network_ with me?"

From there, he planted the seed. _Food Network_ , _The Cooking Channel_ , and _Masterchef_ were the gateway tools, which would get them into cooking meals together.

With a wink, she agreed, "I'm in."


	2. Lesson 2: Have a Nosh, Have a Burger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Kosher Burger Recipe](http://www.myjewishlearning.com/the-nosher/ultimate-kosher-burgers/)  
>  I tried to get the correct text when Felicity said, "Thank you" in Yiddish off of Google, but it was messing with the formatting. So I had to go with the phonetic American English spelling. Sorry!

( _Originally via 408 "Legends of Yesterday"_ )

The wheels of Oliver and Felicity's Range Rover scraped against the pavement when they pulled up to Kent Farms in Smallville, Kansas. As soon as Felicity's heels hit the ground with a thud, her ears were keen to three doors consecutively slamming shut. Daylight made every bit of surroundings look so much more vibrant and lush. Oliver pulled out their large black duffel bag, his and Felicity's shared weekend bag.

"Remind me again, what was wrong with STAR Labs," Caitlin wondered, walking alongside Oliver and Felicity, "Or that amazing new Hall of Justice you, Barry, Kara's cousin Clark, Arthur, Bruce, Diana, and Kendra built for this 'weekend barbecue' idea of yours?"

"Well, nothing unless you wanna grill food next to a multitude of chemicals or handle that revolving door you guys installed at STAR Labs, which lets all the bad guys in it." Oliver replied, "Or if you wanna deal with Dick and Roy fighting over the last drumstick again. By the way, this is actually a weekend barbecue. No air quotes. Just rest and relaxation."

"Really? Okay. I'll believe that one when I see it." Caitlin responded with a smirk, "So tell me again what happened to your old Arrow Caves?"

"We don't call it that."

"Actually I do." Felicity added, "And well, Arrow Cave Number One was compromised by the police, and... I will stop helping now."

She definitely took note of her husband's exasperated face, which read, " _Hon, please,"_ while her hand casually rest on the middle of his back as they walked inside Clark's old home.

Thea believed, "Superheros in a farmhouse. Huh? I think I've seen that movie before. Senator Kent was really cool about letting us use her place for some R&R."

"Yeah, she and your brother have an interesting once they eliminated Bratva and the VRA together, nationwide favorite. Mrs. Kent even wants him as her Vice President. Especially now that Lex Luthor has tapped the shoulder of Maxwell Lord as his running mate, and plans to make the not-so-dead Amanda Waller, his secretary of defense." Dig slipped into the conversation, hoping it would ignite a spark under everyone, so they could all try and convince Oliver to sign on as Martha Kent's Vice Presidential candidate.

"Go for it, Ollie. Star City isn't the only place that needs a leader, hope, and inspiration. The nation needs good leaders like you and Mrs. Kent together leading that charge in order to keep people safe."

"I've already been down that road with him, but I know my husband better than anyone here. I'll wear him down eventually." Felicity continued, coupled with a wink.

"What happened. to discussing it later? We're gonna have a conversation, eventually before November."

"This is later, Oliver. And you know as I well as do, it's never betting when I gamble. I've never gambled on you. I swear I will wear you down soon."

"In more ways than one," her husband whispered, low in her ear as his stubble hotly pricked at her cheek. "I hope."

"Mmm that's definitely a promise I intend to keep, Mr. Queen." She murmured, still having to stand on her tip toes even in three inch heels, "But if and only if you let me cook at the barbecue this afternoon with you."

Everyone groaned at that.

Felicity's hands bracketed her hips as she inquired, "Well, geez. What that collective groan a response to what I just told Oliver, or is the fact that I wanna cook too?"

"Both." Thea grumbled with a hand raise, "Baby sister in the room. Hello. Besides that you two are not the only one's staying in this house for the weekend. No one wants to hear what you both do in the dark unless it's related to missions."

"Yeah," they all agreed.

Felicity insisted, stomping her foot like a toddler, "Hey, I can at least try. I can make some bomb banana pumpkin pancakes now. Isn't that right, my love?"

"Of course, Honey, but um...."

"Maybe you should leave the cooking to Carter, Oliver, and me." Caitlin suggested, lightly gripping her friend's shoulder, "Barry may heal fast, but the last you tried to grill chicken, he had food poisoning for almost two days straight."

Speaking of where were Barry and Cisco? They gave the team a half hour head start, and they still weren't here. Right as Caitlin was about to call Cisco, a familiar speed trail gave Teams Arrow and Flash that windblown hair look. Felicity and Thea giggled at the sight of Barry carrying Cisco bridal style into the farmhouse.

Cisco shot him the side-eye, "Put me down now, man. We're not running anymore."

"Sorry," Barry apologized, "Sorry we're late."

"Barry, you're always late." Oliver huffed, complete with an eye roll, "But I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Flash. How is it you can have super speed and still not be on time?"

His friend pointed out, "In my defense, Ollie, this place is pretty hard to find. Smallville's in the middle of nowhere."

"Did you guys even look at the directions Clark and Kara sent us?" Caitlin quizzed, pulling up a map on her phone as did everyone else, "Kara took the liberty of marking specific paths for your speed and Kendra and Carter's flight time."

"They did?!" Barry punched his friend in the arm, "Cisco!"

"That was my definitely my bad, dude." He apologized, finally pulling up the map on his cell phone, "Sorry."

"Looks like we aren't the only ones who are late. Seriously, I don't hear anyone complaining about Kendra and Carter not being here on time."

Felicity corrected, "Actually, Clark, Bruce, Diana, and Oliver all asked Kendra, Carter, and Kara to make sure the rest of the Justice League in place while we're away just in case. There's always some freaky super bad trying to destroy cities."

"The world is no longer lacking masks or heroes." Oliver remarked, a special telecommunicator, the size of his wife's compact buzzed, "Hawkgirl status report. Do we have all our bases covered?"

"Uh-huh. Firestorm is en route to at STAR Labs. The ATOM and White Canary are in Saint Roque. Arsenal and Robin are patrolling the streets of Star City."

Carter continued, "Martian Manhunter is covering National City. The Question would be watching out for Hub City if he wasn't hitting the casinos with John Constatine, Zantanna, and Esrin Fourtuna. But they've got their communicators on for the night. Bats is guarding over his precious Gotham as per usual. Flyboy's in Metropolis. And Kara is in the Watchtower being our eye in the sky. The Mrs. and I will touch down in about five minutes."

Cisco's eyes were glued to his sneakers as soon as heard the phrase "the Mrs." straight out of Carter's mouth. What, they only married in eight lifetimes? Well, nine now. Cisco understood that there were little thousands of years of romantic history between those two. It was destiny, and he knew that you couldn't mess with it. But, a part of wish he could've been that guy. That guy that made him believe in some other than fate. The problem was he knew by now that Kendra and Carter had actually fallen in love all over again. He was just tired of being single. Cait brought Ronnie back with the help pf Dr. Frieze. Barry was engaged to Iris. Thea got back together with Roy. Wally managed one Hell of a long distance relationship with Jesse. John married Lyla twice, three times after he had returned home from the Army. Of course there was Oliver and Felicity. They were one of those couples that everyone believed in, and he may never find a love like that. Maybe he never would. Maybe his destiny was to be single forever.

"You find someone, Cisco." His friend's words broke him out of brooding. Funny, brooding was Oliver's shtick. Yet, happy "Mr. Mayor" Queen had it all now. "You will. I promise."

"When Cait? The last girl I dated was Kendra, and clearly that didn't turn out too well."

"Soon." Felicity assured, slapping him on the back a little harder than she intended to, "Sorry I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but love takes time to grow. Don't you remember it took Oliver and me over almost three years to get together. You'll find the right girl when you're ready."

As Kendra's feet hit the ground, cushioned by vibrant green grass, Cisco joked, "Mick's right every time they do that I want chicken or squab."

"Great because I can whip..."

"Felicity, please no." Cait prodded, "Carter, Oliver, and I will handle the food."

She humphed, "Girl, you are not the one I need to convince. You do know I understand Oliver speak quite well, and I certainly have my ways."

Damn it, she was gonna seduce him into letting her grill.

"Hi everyone." Kendra greeted, armful of beige tote bags, "We stopped by the deli in Metropolis on our way here. All beef Kosher hot dogs for Felicity of course."

Felicity smiled, "Adank"

"Baby, why did ask for that?"

"You've know me for seven years, three of which we've been together for the holidays. I'm Jewish. Kosher comes with the territory."

He chuckled, "I'm well aware of your faith, Felicity. It's always represented during our holiday parties, but up until you haven't decided to eat Kosher. In February, you scarfed down that non-kosher ballpark dog at Papp Stadium in the boxseats when we took William and Samantha to the Rockets vs. Diamonds game."

"Well, I should start especially with the um..."

"The what?" Her sister-in-law wondered

Oliver finished, "Uh, the news we have to share later. _Much later._ "

Dig's eyebrows rose, and he had a big toothy grin directed at Oliver and Felicity. He didn't know. There was no way he could've figured it out in one sentence. He couldn't know. Did he know?

"That's fine." Carter redirected, hands clapped together right before they headed into the kitchen, "Let's prep the food, and then we can fire up the grill."

His wife called, heels clomping against the hardwood as she made her into the kitchen, "Oliver, I need to speak with you in here."

"Hon, can it wait for a little bit?" Her husband requested, fingertips caressing the expanse of her arm, "I just need to run something down. Don't worry it's nothing dangerous."

"And what exactly do you have to track down?"

As he made his way out the door, he reminded, "The cake, you know, for our news later today."

" _And_ , what else, Oliver?" Felicity asked expectantly, understanding full well that they weren't in Smallville for just some rest and relaxation. Plus, if a certain Kevlar green super suit was any indication, her husband definitely knew had some other work to do besides blazing the political campaign trail. Or at least, Felicity hoped he would.

Oliver sighed in admittance, "Clark lost the Legion Ring."

"Again? Did it accidentally turn invisible?"

"Nope." Her husband denied, popping the p. "He think it got in the hands of some local kids trying to tag Kent Farms for the Hell of it."

"And just how did that happen?" She whispered incredulously, "Aren't Clark and Kara supposed to keep it in their impenetrable Fortress of Solitude, which can be opened by some big ass key only Kyrptonians can lift?"

"Apparently, he brought it to the farm after Kara's fight with Indigo, and it got stolen"

Felicity figured, "So all of this is because the so-called Man of Steel wants the Green Arrow to clean up his mess?"

"Baby, be nice. Clark's watching over Metropolis." He reminded as he sneakily pinched his wife's butt, "Besides we're a team. The Justice League needs to remain a united front, or the entire galaxy will be at risk."

His pinch was met with an arm pulling him flush against her, "Since when are you a team player? Oliver, you haven't exactly always played nice with others in the past. I swear you and Bruce are two of the most stubbornly heroic men that I've ever met."

"Since it meant a quiet weekend with my wife, friends, and family away from the craziness in Star City." Her husband pointed out, "Look, all Clark wants is the ring back. Worse comes to worse, the Green Arrow has to strike the fear of God into some idiot teenagers, and that's it."

A mixture of a heavy breath and sight worry laced Felicity's next comment, "You make it sound like a run to the gas station. I understand that those thieves are just stupid teenagers. But, the legion ring itself is dangerous. And I don't like you going out there alone. In the wrong hands..."

"Hey, I get that. But I'll be fine." He pressed a long, hard ,passionate kiss to his wife's lips, "I promise."

"Be careful." Her plea ghosted over his lips as she leaned in for one last fleeting peck as he jumped on his Ducati, "And try to be back in time for lunch."

Her husband gripped the throttle before he slipped on his helmet, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

The engine of his Ducati whirred when he sped off in a distance.

"Yeah, you better not, Oliver." She bit her bottom lip, talking to nothing, but air for a brief moment. "No matter how small it is, I'll always worry about you. Just come home to me."

Oliver did just that. He returned to Kent Farms with not a single scratch on him. After he zipped his Green Arrow suit into another black duffel back, the front door creaked open. He didn't even make it into the house Felicity crashed into him with a tight hug. Her eyes draped shut while both her arms squeezed him into a much needed embrace. One hand sneaked under her blouse, delicately tracing each and every scar that littered her back from Darhk's barrage of bullets and the multiple surgeries that followed. It was a gesture that was completely theirs, and she did the same to him in bed. Not just after they made love, but before, during, after, or for no reason at all. His hand found its way to the back of her head, cupping her recently dyed blonde locks gently as his other arm ensnared her waist just below her breasts.

"Hey, I was only gone a few hours. You missed me that much already?"

Her voice was muffled into the side of her husband's neck, "Always, especially when you go out on missions alone. I hate to ask, but did you remember the cake?"

"Yup." He thought, heading back to his Ducati, "It's in the sidecar."

A quick dash out, and Oliver retrieved a bright pink box and stuck in the fridge. He met up with Felicity back at the couch. Their hands found each like missing puzzle pieces as soon as they sat down next to each other.

"Did you get back the Legion ring?"

"Yeah." Oliver nodded, laughing at a memory, "The kid almost pissed himself when he heard the Green Arrow asking for the ring back."

"Oliver, intimidation is nothing to brag about," Felicity reprimanded with a soft smack to his thigh. "Because you are not that kind of person anyone. You're not just some crazy vigilante in a hood. You are a real hero. Did Clark fly by to pick up the ring?"

"Uh-huh. I didn't intimidate anyone. I said please." He huffed out a laugh again, "The guy lost his shit because, according to his friend, they're huge fans of the Green Arrow and Batman."

She smiled. That was still kind of a shock, but she loved hearing good news like that.

"Well, alright then. You're just in time, Oliver because Carter just fired up the grill. He's in charge of turkey legs. Caitlin's on salmon duty."

"So that leaves me in charge of burgers." Her husband figured, opening the sliding glass door out into the Kent's massive backyard, if he could even call it that. Carter was heavily salting a raw bone-in turkey leg before he threw on the grill.

Much to Oliver's surprise, Felicity plopped down on a wooden bench at the picnic table, adjacent to the old horse corral and a large abandoned tractor tire. Carter and Caitlin were working in close quarters, Felicity was more surprised that they didn't step on each other toes. Cisco was squeezing some fresh lime juice over his mother's recipe for a twist on Pico de Gullo. Kendra was tossing a kale and strawberry salad. Barry was quickly setting the table, using his super speed of course. And, Oliver was waiting his turn behind the grill.

As Oliver's eyebrow quirked. Felicity could just sense it. He wanted to say something, but was holding back, "What? What is it? Go ahead."

"It's nothing much." He started, "It's just... Color me shocked, you haven't initiate our usual please-can-I-help dance?"

Her tone was harmoniously playful, yet cutting. "Oh?  I am usually the one who initiates things in our marriage. Isn't that right, my love?"

"Hey! Honey. That is not fair. It was really cold in Gotham that one. I just couldn't do that by myself...And they don't need to hear the rest of that story."

Cisco whined, "Aww! I wanted to hear the rest of the story."

"Francisco Ramon," Caitlin warned sharply, similar to his mother, "Don't you start."

Barry cleared his throat, "Alright, alright. Let's settle down now ladies and gentleman. We're all adults here. Hey, Mr. Masterchef, why don't you start grilling up those burgers, and we can get our grub on?"

"On it," Oliver noted, wiping his spatula until it gleamed in the sunlight.

While everyone was distracted by their own activities as Oliver was grilling. Caitlin was braiding her hair. Cisco was overdressing his salad with a balsamic vinaigrette as he was desperately trying to ignore Kendra and Carter's bliss. She was sitting on his lap, discussing a necklace an amulet she found in their Victorian past lives. Barry was trying to talk to Cisco, although he wasn't really listening. Felicity was fixated on Oliver. Hamburgers weren't the only things that had delicious buns. God, there was just something about him. He was so sexy in something so simple, a light gray t-shirt and Khakis slaving over the grill. His biceps flex every so slightly when he formed the Kosher beef into patties. He was starting to get a little sweaty over the heat of both the grill and today's warm weather. It wasn't that Felicity gave on the idea of helping. She just had her own plans. She had her own ways, and she decided that now it was time to put those plans into action.

As soon as Felicity walked behind Oliver, Kendra urged, "Maybe we should go inside to figure out where Thea and John went off to."

"Huh?" Carter's forehead resembled an old washboard.

She practically grit, " _Now_."

"You heard the hottie, I mean the lady let's move." Cisco concurred when Felicity's arms slung low around Oliver's waist.

"Hi there." Felicity murmured against his neck, peppering sweet little kisses at the base of it. Her hands drifted lower, more toward the center of his pants. Thank God, he was wearing Khakis. Whenever, Oliver wore Khakis or sweats, it was usually a no boxers or no boxer briefs kind of a day. That worked perfectly with her plan, and like she said before, she had her ways. Especially when it came to her husband, or making him do so. "Need a hand, Oliver."

"Felicity." He groaned, regretting his no underwear and Khaki pants choice today when her hands sneaked inside to find a part of him that could clearly wake up quickly, " _Later_. There's a spot in the woods by Kent Farms. No one will annoy us there. Besides we wouldn't want things to get messy when we're making making burgers for our friends."

" _We're_?" She giggled, clearly taken aback by Oliver's resolve crumbling that quick, "I wore you down that fast. I have to remember that one. What's the matter, Honey? Are you losing stamina in your old age?"

"When it comes to you. Never, Hon. And I'm only four years older than you." Oliver mentioned, "At this point why argue? Now if you really wanna give me a hand, go wash your hands with soap and water. As much as I love it when you do that, and you know I'll return the favor later. It's not sanitary when handling food, so go clean up."

After a nice scrub with warm water and hand soap, Felicity happily walked out to Oliver by the grill.

He told her what was in his meat mixture. It seemed like everything, but the kitchen sink. Each patty was seasoned with salt, garlic powder, onion powder, and black pepper. She listened intently, mentally jotting down notes. She should really transfer all these cooking tips to the note taking app on her tablet.

His wife inquired with such excitement, it reminded him of the joy on William's face when he went to his very first live Diamonds game at Papp Stadium, "Got it, so can start making burgers now?"

"Okay Okay. After we form the meat into patties." He instructed, guiding her fingers, "Gently press your thumb in the center of the patty."

"Why?"

"So it plumps up evenly when you cook it."

She teased, an elbow poked his side, "Did you learn that from your cookbook by Freddie Prince Jr?"

"Mmph No. Bobby Flay on _Food Network_."

Felicity set her patty on the grill, delighting in the way it sizzled over the flames. And it didn't shrivel up or fall into the grate like her first attempt. Her burger was grilled to a perfect medium well after three minutes on each side. Oliver assembled a slew of burgers for their friends topped with onions, avocado, and a light drizzle of sriracha. As Oliver was assembling Felicity's burger, she was still at the grill, heating up a couple Pastrami over her own patty for the last two minutes of cooking time.

"Oliver, wait. Now try it!"

Oliver complimented, "Hot, hot, hot. But, oh my God. Nice touch, Felicity."

"Why thank you." Felicity stated, quite pleased with her newfound culinary skills before she called out, "Hey guys. Lunch is ready. Don't worry it's safe to come out now."

Her husband let out a breathy laugh, "Six heroes on two local teams, who face meta-humans, and the worse kinds of people. But they're afraid of a little PDA between their married friends."

"To be fair, that was more than a little PDA." His wife hummed, "And I look forward to a lot more of it later tonight at this secret spot of yours."

"Cant wait." His notion of two little words was laden with fun promise.

Everyone sat down, and had a delicious meal including some more of Felicity's burgers with Pastrimi. Until Thea remembered, "So what was the news you said you'd tell us later?"

"Yeah?" Dig fished, "Felicity, you want a beer?"

"Sure." His friend obliged, taking a swig of light beer. She knew full well what they had probably all thought, but that just wasn't the case yet.

Oliver confirmed, "Felicity's not pregnant yet. She's, well, you tell 'em. It's more your news than mine."

"Queen Incorporated is branching out." Felicity finally told them, "I finally got enough investors to back my idea for a tech-based subsidiary, Q-Core to launch this Winter. What's a better to celebrate in summer than with friends, family, and chocolate cake?"

"Congratulations, Felicity I can wait to get some new stuff because my phone needs a definite upgrade." Caitlin questioned, "But what was with the whole Kosher foods thing?"

"Nearly half my staff members are Jewish too, and the eat Kosher." Her friend shrugged, a slight pink flush warmed her cheeks, "So, I'd thought I'd try it out for a little while. Maybe my taste buds have changed from when I was a kid. So, to new adventures."

Everyone cheered, bottles of beer clinking together, "To new adventures."


	3. Lesson 3: Homemade Brownies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why not skip to dessert first before dinner? ;) Much like their brownies with whipped cream, Oliver and Felicity's lesson gets a little, messy, sticky, and sweet. NSFW. Also, for all intents and purposes in the GIF, picture the souffles as brownies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Brownie recipe](http://allrecipes.com/recipe/10549/best-brownies/)

( _Originally via 401 "Green Arrow"_ )

Sunlight careened through their window against the thin white curtains. Felicity stirred awake at the feeling of a familiar large hand caressing her back. Not to mention, her husband's erection poking right at her thigh. His eyes delighted in her wordless smile as she kissed him with morning breath. They'd become quite accustomed to kissing each other with morning or coffee breath, and it certainly didn't seem to bother them at all. Especially not after seven years of marriage.

"Mmm, Well." Felicity murmured, voice still laden on the periphery of sleep. "Good morning to you too."

A practically red blush warmed his cheeks, tone similar to his Green Arrow modulator, "Sorry, it's just... It's the time of day."

Wrong answer, and that was evident by the way his wife's gentle caress on his bare shoulder quickly turned into a light slap on his back.

"So what you're saying is you think that my sex appeal has gone down after nearly a decade of marriage? I'm just a dried out Gefilte fish, is that what you're saying?"

"No," He denied, stretching out the word, "Felicity, of course I still think you're incredibly sexy. You're the sexiest woman on any Earth in my eyes. I dunno..."

She cut him off with a hard kiss, "Then maybe we can do something to fix your little problem."

Oliver pulled her on top of like he knew she loved. She started grinding against him. Quickies weren't exactly their favorite way to have sex. Scratch that they loved sex anywhere, anytime, so long as it was only with each other. Yet, they understood during weekend mornings with all three kids home all day, they had to work fast. Before they all woke up, and there definitely wasn't anytime for foreplay. Right after his tongue found its way in her mouth, Oliver pulled back.

"Hey wait 'little'?" His eyebrows quirked, more focused on the fact that his wife referred to his size as that as opposed to focusing on his hot wife.

"Sorry." Felicity huffed, flipping her recently chopped lock back, so she could kiss her husband better, "Amazingly gargantuan problem."

"Thank you."

"Oliver, it's been seven weeks. I know I have a company and you have an entire city to run." His wife instructed militantly. "But I need you right now So just shut up and do me before the kids-"

Wake up. They heard the pitter patter of three sets of footsteps barreling down the hallway straight to their bedroom. Oliver and Felicity usually loved the hustle and bustle of their kids around the house. It typically brought them happiness along with lots of laughter. Yet at times like these. Well, it was a little annoying.

"Mama, Daddy!" Mia called from behind the door. "Can we come in your room? I got something really important to tell you. Please."

Oliver responded immediately as he gently pushed Felicity off of him, "Of course, baby girl."

The door creaked opened. Mia and Tommy made their way over to their mother's side of the bed.

"You're gonna get in trouble." Tommy teased in a sing-song voice.

Mia growled before she spoke loudly, "No, I won't!"

"Woah, woah." Their mother warned, lowering her tone as well, "Inside voices please. What's going on, sweetheart?"

Mia pressed a little index finger to her lips, shifting her weight from side to side. She hummed, but didn't utter a single word. Felicity dubbed that one, her daughter's thinky face.

"Hey it's okay, munch." Her big brother assured in a hushed tone as he knelt down to her level, "Go ahead. It's gonna be fine."

William may have looked more like Samantha, but his attitude. And unfortunately, some of his bad grades that was all Oliver. Despite her other brother's reassurance, Mia brows still crinkled with concern while she shook her head.

Tommy blurted out, "Mia's gonna miss a homework assignment."

"What? Why?" Their father wondered.

"Because Mommy can't help me bake at all for our Mother's Day party at school. It's for the bake sale on Tuesday, so we can help Ms. Harris fix her wheelchair." She admitted in a huff.

"Amelia, I already took the day off from work." Felicity reminded, her fingertips combing through her daughter's naturally blonde wavy locks, "I know Mama isn't the greatest cook or baker in the world."

Her stepson muttered under his breath, "There's an understatement."

" _Ahem, son._ Not helping."

"Sorry Felicity."

"It's alright. At least he's honest with us." Felicity ensured, "Look, Mia, I promise we'll follow Daddy's recipe exactly. What could possibly go wrong?"

Mia stated aloud, "Everything, Mama please don't have angry face. I love you, but..."

" _But_. How 'bout I show your mom every single step on how to make my brownies?" Oliver offered, "Then there's absolutely no way the brownies will be ruined. You can trust me."

"Okay, Daddy. I trust you." His daughter's tone was honest, yet not fully convinced because her mother always found a way to mess up some things in the kitchen. Even water, one night when Felicity tried to make fresh pasta, the water in the pot reduced to nothing but pure steam.

"Alright then. It's settled." His wife agreed with a high-five, "But later tonight after dinner William. I need you to take your little brother and sister over to your mom's. Just tell her, we're out of coffee cake. She'll understand."

"Okay," William wondered, forehead crumpled in confusion. "But why would you guys want coffee cake if you two are making brownies?"

"Dude, everyone loves coffee cake." His father replied, unable to hide the grin that curled on his lips, "It may take awhile to find at your mom's place."

His eyebrows quirked, "Dad, what are you talking about? It would just be in the kitchen. Oh... Gross. Never mind, I'm on babysitting duty. That's all I need to know. C'mon Thing One, Thing Two. Let's go get some breakfast now."

William ushered his younger siblings out of their parents' bedroom. Felicity's ears perked up Tommy's question as their door was left slightly ajar.

"Why'd you say gross earlier? I don't get it, Will."

He paused, "Uh, It's nothing you need to worry about. You and Mia are too young to understand it anyway."

"No we're not. He's seven and I'm five." Mia piped up, clearly offended by her oldest brother's last comment, "We're not like those three year babies at the park in the swings."

William groaned, figuring out that he would never keep the pestering at bay, "Dad and Felicity wanna have date night- a night to themselves where they get all kissy and stuff."

Thank goodness, William didn't elaborate on what "stuff" meant.

"Ew gross!" His siblings complained in unison, their faces contorted with disgust.

Oliver and Felicity soon heard the clatter of some bowls and spoons as the kids puttered about the kitchen.

"You know you didn't have to add in that last part. Now Will knows, and he's probably gonna be mortified for the rest of his life." Felicity prodded, shooting a side-eyed glance at her her husband.

"Hon, he's eighteen. He'll get it over it soon." Oliver waved off, "Besides he'll feel a whole lot better when I let him borrow the Lexus."

"Oliver, what did I tell you about bribing any of the kids? And what happened to his sensible Nissan?"

"You said don't do it, but it's for our greater good, Felicity. Samantha told me he needs better brakes."

"Honey, I still don't like it."

"Seven weeks, Babe, seven weeks." Her husband reminded, gently cupping her cheeks, "We get a date night out of this."

She hummed, "Mmm. And _dessert_. Don't dare you dare forget about that, Mr. Queen."

"Never." He whispered, breath ghosting over her mouth as a kiss punctuated every other word in his last sentence. "There will be so much time for dessert, I promise."

Later that night, the Clayton-Queen kids all three on their jackets, making sure they had their books, tablets, chargers, crayons, and favorite toys all packed up for a couple hours at Samantha's place. Felicity hugged her kids after Oliver, who was already setting up their small round dining room table. William smirked as he saw his stepmom unhook a very familiar set of cars keys off the rack.

"Now William Connor Clayton, your father and I are trusting you with one of favorite cars." Felicity started.

William nodded, "Uh-huh, Felicity. Hey dad, does this mean I get to test out your new Ducati Diavel soon?"

"Ha! Not until after you get your motorcycle license, Buddy."

"Aw, dad! C'mon."

His stepmother added, redirecting his attention, "Hey, teenager. Eyes up here. I wasn't finished yet. William Connor Clayton, your father and I are trusting you with one of favorite cars. However, we are trusting you to keep your baby brother and sister safe and sound, especially while driving. And that's starts from the very moment you three set foot out that door. Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." He agreed, hands lightly squeezing his brother and sister's shoulders.

"Good because it's like your father always says..."

Oliver interjected amidst clinking glasses and a rustle of some ice, "No matter who is in the car or on the back of the back with me, they're like precious cargo. They're fragile, and I would do anything to keep them safe. And I'd expect nothing less from you, young man."

 "I'll guard them with my life." William swore truthfully, yet hilariously with a hand over his heart, "Now go have fun ya crazy kids, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."

The front door slammed closed, and Felicity peered out the window at the kids since their Lexus had to parked out in the front street. No way Felicity was giving up her little red mini Cooper. That had sentimental value. Sure it was eleven years old, but it was special. She couldn't exactly get out Oliver's blood stains when his own mother shot him, so i wasn't exactly a hit seller. But she would dare just give away like that. It was special to her and Oliver. That was when she found his secret and that was when she first joined Original Team Arrow, the OG's, the Original Gangstas. She watched carefully William made sure to double check that both Tommy and Mia were buckled in their car seats correctly. He tapped his back pocket for the extra cash Oliver gave him just in case they need to stop for gas on the way to Central City. He didn't turn on any music. He adjusted his mirrors, turned on his headlights, and with a wave following a start of the engine, off they went to Samantha's house.

"Will's a great kid. He turned out to be so responsible. Thank God, he takes after his mother in that department." Felicity teased playfully. Her stiletto heels clacked against the floor when she walked over to the dining table. "But, right now I'm just glad that we're finally alone."

"Lucky for you. I'll pardon that comment, Mrs. Queen since it is date night after all." He fired back with a laugh, pulling out his wife's chair like the gentleman that he is, "Because I just whipped some amazing shrimp curry."

She smiled, rubbing her belly, "Yum, but oh Mr. Mayor, I do believe you forgot something in that date night agreement of ours. It may be unwritten, yet I'm afraid the terms are nonnegotiable."

"Ah, believe me Baby. I'm well aware. C'mere." Oliver insisted, dropping the air of playful professionalism for a long languid passionate kiss. She moaned against his mouth while her palms delicately cupped his stubble.

At a much needed break for air when one of Oliver's hands carded through her hair, "Um maybe we should skip dinner and go straight to dessert."

"No. No. You. Me. Dinner now because you are gonna have at least a few bites of my shrimp curry. Then I have to show you how to bake brownies. And then we can move on to dessert."

The Queens enjoyed a spiced citrusy blend of some homemade shrimp curry cooled down by a bed of saffron-infused rice and some smooth white wine. Their conversation touched a bit on work like how things were going down at City Hall, the Wayne Medical/Queen BioTech merger, and more. They talked about the kids, wondering what they doing right now at this very moment, and the comfortable dialogue died down when Oliver got up from the table.

Felicity adamantly believed, "I'm gonna get those brownies right. In fact, after you teach me I bet I could give Betty Crocker a run for her money."

"Yes you can." Oliver replied, looking up at the ceiling, "Lord, I hope so because I do not wanna get my stomach pumped again."

She chimed, "Heard that Honey."

"Sorry." Her husband apologized, "I've already preheated the oven, so let's just get to work. Okay? I'll make up for that comment later."

"You bet your cute ass you will." Her lips pursed as she sneaked up behind him, "Why do you have to preheat an oven?"

"When you bake it helps to activate the leavening agents, so the brownie will rise properly."

The mixed up the batter quickly, and Oliver lightly sprinkled in some mini semisweet chocolate chips to make the brownies even more rick and sweet. Thankfully Felicity didn't confuse the salt and sugar. And she was appropriately light-handed on the pinch of salt she was supposed to add into the batter. Felicity swiftly poured the mixture into an eight-inch baking pan, spritzed with cooking spray. Although it got a little messy as raw brownie batter splattered onto their wrists.

"Oops! Honey, I'm so sorry."

Felicity took the liberty of wiping up the mess with a potholder, which was hanging on a handle at their oven. It needed to be cleaned away. However, Oliver, he had another method.

He smirked, tossing the potholder aside, "Here lemme help with that."

His mouth practically latched onto her wrist as he licked up the stray remnants of brownie. Her breath hitched, though she wiped his saliva on his black polo shirt. She wanted things to get a little hot in the kitchen, but not like that. Felicity dabbed some brownie batter on his nose, and kissed it off of him.3

"Mmm. I would've started like that." She mentioned, licking chocolate off her creamy red lip stain.

That big boyish grin, which adorned his face was impossible to hide.

"My bad." Oliver announced, "You know I never did get you back from our wedding when you nearly shoved buttercream frosting in my nose."

"Oliver, Oliver. Don't you dare!" Her tone was intended to be reprimanding, but it came out in a giggle fit as soon as her husband's large hand was holding a huge glob of brownie batter. She moaned right when she felt the gooey mixture coat her neck, dripping down the slope of her shoulder to her back. She moaned again for an entirely different reason as Oliver's lips and stubble rasped at her neck.

A single word was dripping with desire, "Better?"

"So, so much better." She believed, a whimper escaping her lips. "Don't stop."

And, he certainly didn't. Her ass rested in his arms as her legs wrapped his torso. Soon their clothes were left in a trail on the floor, leading to the dining room. Their lips never left each other as her supple palms caressed the equally rough skin of her husband's back. The daisies and now unlit tea candles were scattered all over the dark hardwood floor. Felicity's scarred back was a contrast to the soft white linen of their tablecloth. Felicity sucked in a deep hesitant breath upon the realization of what they were about to do, especially when her eyes darted over to the can of whipped cream Oliver fetched while she took another breather.

"The kids don't eat at this table ever." He rationalized as if he was reading her thoughts. "Plus there's a tablecloth."

Shaking those small worries out of her head, Felicity urged, "Just love me. That's all you ever have to do - no matter where we are."

"That's so easy to do, Felicity because you're _you_. You are the most amazing woman I've ever met."

His wet lips graced every single inch of her bare skin her forehead, her cheek, her neck, her breasts, and her nipples until she was a writhing bundle of nerves. She needed more. She need more kisses, more love bites, more Oliver until there was no space left between them. She desperately needed him because she reveled in how they felt when they were together. It was near perfect synchronicity. They had an intrinsic knowledge of each other's bodies after years and years filled with a lot of practice. She loved every single moment- the way their hips rocked against each other, the way he fit her perfectly every single time, the ways his calloused hands cushioned her scarred back, tethering her either to him. Or it was whatever surface they were in the heat of the moment. But, the two things Felicity loved most of all is when she hurtled toward the edge of pleasure, he'd kiss hard on the mouth, and whisper "I love you" repeatedly, etching like a tattoo over her heart. She sure felt that, boy, both inside and out. She was waiting for that very moment, but it didn't come quite yet. Instead, she heard the spray of a can followed by a cool, creamy substance against her skin.

"Oliver, what'cha doing?"

Though, she knew full well exactly what he was doing.

"Well, you remember the night in Vegas when your mom was watching the kids?"

"Vaguely. I had a lot of shots after my mom started peppering with me questions like if she was gonna get to have more grandbabies." Felicity admitted, lifting her head up to meet his eyes directly, "By the way, the answer to that is no. Unless Sara and Nyssa decided to adopt or do In Vitro. We both know my shop is closed."

"Yeah. But do you remember what you showed me after all those shots?"

"My boobs?" His wife struggled to remember exactly, though she was pretty sure. "I breastfed two kids for six months at a time, and they're still kind of awesome."

"Well, they're still a couple of my favorite parts of you, but don't you remember the list?"

She thought, pressing an index finger over her lips, "The list? The list? My sexual fantasy list on my tablet? I showed you that? I'd sworn to myself I'd never show that to you ever. It's embarrassing."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Sex with you is always amazing, but it's good to spice things up sometimes." His hands parted her thighs again, "And number one was 'for Oliver to eat things off of me the next time we're intimate."

Her response was gladly interrupted by his tongue when he licked a long stripe down her torso, lapping up some of the whipped cream. His mouth sucked at her bellybutton while his tongue circled the not unwanted pressure from his mouth, mimicking what he would do just moments later, yet lower. Oliver's teeth lightly nipped at her inner thighs, knowing that it would leave a nice little red love bit for only the two of them to know about. She bit back a whimper as his breath was cooling against her wet folds. He leaned ever-so slowly before he kissed, licked, and sucked. She reached down for one of his hands on her thighs, and guided it up towards her left breast. Oliver squeezed gently delighted in her months as his ring scraped against her nipple. His hands were amazing at so many other things than just being in the kitchen, or using his bow. But his mouth was in a whole other realm. She could see nothing, but white hot stars behind her eyes. All Felicity could do was feel, and when his his mouth nursed her tender clit as whipped slid down from his pelvis. At least that was what she thought it was.

Felicity pleaded desperately, breath keening high in her throat, "Oh, God. Oh God. _Right There Oh, Mm, Oliver, Fuck Yes!"_

A wave of warm wetness seeped out as her core clenched at a delicious pulse in response. Her chest heaved and her skin warmed in a light pink flush before her mitigated blue eyes fluttered open to meet his.

Oliver stood between her legs, lips messily colliding into hers. Despite what he had just done, she didn't care, and neither did he. "You tasted so damn good, Baby."

"Oliver?" Her teeth clamped down on her lower as she demanded confidently, "Fuck me."

Crude, yes. That wasn't typically Felicity's style. She needed him, and she needed him inside her like yesterday. No matter how they did it, slow soft love making or hard and fast quickies. There was always a shared love, intimacy, and gentleness in each and every single movement they made together. He scooped her up into his arms, throwing her over his shoulder as they continued their moment alone in the bathroom. A gruff amalgamation of Felicity's name soon echoed loudly off the shower tiles in spite of the hot running water. They weren't sure how well that shower was at getting them fully clean. Twenty minutes later, they returned back downstairs. Oliver was in nothing but his light gray sweatpants with a white drawstring. Felicity snookered her husband's black hoodie with not much else. They walked back into the kitchen, hand-in-hand with these deliriously happy smiles on their faces.

"Hey." He mentioned, "What you did tonight was amazing."

"Just tonight?" She questioned, readying her hand for a light smack to his arm.

"No, Felicity. Every single night we're together, and I'm not talking about _just_ sex. The batter you made was delicious."

"Woah, what a mess?" His wife muttered, eyes darting all around the room at the clothes and brownie batter tornado that hit their kitchen in a frenzy. "I guess we have to clean this place up, and make a new batch before the kids get home."

And they did just that. Oliver felt Felicity's bare foot skim his calf as she finally put the batter in the oven to bake them. When the oven timer dinged thirty-five minutes later, Samantha called to mention that all the kids had fallen asleep on the couch after watching _The Lion King_. So she offered to let Tommy and Mia stay overnight. She had plenty of room, and either she or William would drive them home in the morning. After all, she and her boyfriend Scott knew how long it could take when trying to "find coffeecake".

Next morning, Oliver came home from his usual six mile jog, and Felicity was gladly sipping on some hot coffee after a round of Yoga when the doorbell rang.

Oliver greeted, "Hey, nice to see they're all in one piece," as the little ones bolted through the door, immediately hugging their father's legs.

"Of course, Dad. You know you can trust me."

Samantha added, "He even offered to make them dinner, but for their own safety, I made them pasta."

"Aunt Sammy's pskeghetti is yummy." Tommy pointed out, patting his belly.

Felicity corrected, " _Spaghetti_ , Bubba. And, Sam, you actually brought coffeecake too?"

"Yeah, Mama." Mia remembered, "That's what you and Daddy wanted. Isn't it?"

"Right, baby girl, it is."

"And we both know how long coffeecake can take find or bake from scratch." Samantha smiled, eyeing the plate of stacked brownies, "Ooh, can I snag one of these for the road? I could use the sugar before work today."

Felicity shrugged, handing her a napkin, "Of course."

With a mouthful, Samantha complimented, "These are delicious. Nice job, Felicity."

"Hey, how'd you know it wasn't me?" Oliver wondered, feigning an offended tone.

"Mia told me that Felicity took a baking lesson from you."

"Yes." She fist pumped, "So I don't have to borrow money from QI to help get Wendy a new chair."

Mia cheered, "Yay Mama. I'm so proud."


	4. Lesson 4: Chicken Cordon Bleu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Chicken Cordon Bleu recipe](http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/tyler-florence/chicken-cordon-bleu-recipe2.html)

( _Originally via 406 "Lost Souls"_ )

Felicity was on the periphery of sleep. Nothing but a light blue bed sheet draped over her bare skin as her hand skimmed over what was once her taut belly. Despite feeling the baby kick, slumber was pulling her away to dreamland. Until she felt a familiar calloused hand card over her scarred back, slipping in between his own wall of firm muscle and her glowing skin. Wet lips peppered little pecks along the shell of her ear while fingertips combed through her natural dark locks.

"Mmm, _Oliver_." His wife moaned, tone laced with annoyance as it was muffled by her pillow, "Why are you keeping me awake? Sleep, Honey, please for me."

His voice was husky, breath tickling her ear when he drew out every syllable of her name, "Felicity, you have a video conference with the board in an hour. Remember you said that you wanted me to remind you."

Her hands slid up from her belly, and her fingers curled around the edge of her pillow, almost daring to lightly smack him with it. _Almost._ "Hey, I still have an hour for a quick catnap. And how'd you like your company back as an early Christmas gift. Your second term will be over in about a year, Mr. Mayor."

He grinned against her cheek, "I know, but I think you're doing a much better job of running it than I ever did."

"I only started up Queen Incorporated after we got married almost five and a half months ago." She pointed out, "And it's already flirting with bankruptcy."

Oliver prodded with a kiss on the lips, "Exactly. It's just flirting."

Felicity felt him untangle her leg from his when he propped up on his knees and swiftly got out of bed.

"Mmph, Where are you going now?"

"I have to go to the grocery store for food." He explained, grabbing a pair of dark jeans from his drawer, "Since Julie and Ben are gonna be here for dinner tomorrow night. I was thinking of making some of my chicken cordon bleu. It's..."

Felicity sighed, though her response was laden with amusement, "Spectacular. I get that since you can't help, but throw it around every time you see Mrs. Cheffy with her fancy papers."

"Baby, be nice. C'mon you like the Austens better than the Hoffans."

Stretching limbs like their sleepy kitten, Walter, she murmured, "Right. I just forgot the Austens were coming over for dinner on Sunday night. Hey, Hon?"

"Uh-oh, here we go." He muttered under his breath just as he was about to make his way into their master bathroom. Clearing his throat, Oliver figured aloud, "You wanna help, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I'll tell you what." Felicity suggested, "We can do a practice run at dinner. You teach me how to make your chicken cordon bleu tonight, and I can help you whip it up tomorrow with Julie and Ben."

Regardless of the fact that this may very well be a decision he might regret, her husband's eyes fell shut before he let an exasperated, "Okay."

"Well, don't get too excited now, Oliver." His wife quipped sarcastically, "My happiness is definitely undercut by your clear lack of faith in me."

"I'm sorry. Felicity, Honey."

"Oh don't you ' _Felicity, Hone_ y', my love. And don't think you can get away with this just because you're standing there all shirtless, sweaty, and hot. I mean, seriously what are you, Photoshopped? You look like one of those guys in an Ambercrombie ad while I just get fatter thanks to you."

"Hey. It takes two to make a baby, Mrs. Queen." Her husband paused, throwing on his white t-shirt, the one that strained over his biceps ever-so-slightly before Felicity felt the mattress dip between her legs. This moment would've been promising if Oliver wasn't dressed and ready to go out to the store. A kiss punctuated after every other word in his next sentence. "You are. _kiss_ the sexiest. _kiss_ most beautiful woman. _kiss_ that I've ever seen _kiss_." His lips pecked hers, traveling down to her chin, the column of her neck, in between her cleavage, down her torso, over the swell of her stomach straight to her belly button.

Smiling as her hand rest against the back of his head, she waved off, "Yeah, yeah. Go get the food before I pin you back on this bed."

"God, I'd love to see you try."

"I bet you would. I had an excellent teacher."

"Hmm. Anyone I know?" The tenderness in Oliver's voice vibrated against her skin, even through their thin light blue bed sheets were draped over it. An eyebrow quirked playfully.

Felicity giggled at that when she finally answered, "Yup. I was talking about John."

"Okay. I really need to go now." Her husband announced, "You know? I don't think I'm ever gonna get tired of making plans that don't involve people shooting at me."

The grocery store was brightly cast in a florescent lit glow. Oliver didn't even have to look at the aisle numbers. Well, unless the managers decided to change around the items. He picked some Gruyere cheese, a carton of eggs, panko bread crumbs, thyme sprigs, fresh garlic heads, extra-virgin olive oil, thinly sliced prosciutto, and his last stop was at the meats and deli section. Oliver was almost first in line, yet his cart and someone else's cart bumped into each other.

"Oliver, hi." A familiar brunette greeted with a smile, pulling her cart back along with herself.

With a wave of his hand, he insisted like the gentleman that he is, "Hey Julie. Please by all means, ladies first."

"Thank you." She chimed, "You know, according to Ben, if we're weren't married. In the movies, this little exchange would be called a meet-cute."

"I have heard that. Felicity loves a lot of movies with Kate Winslet."

As if the words were rewinding in her head, "Not that I don't wanna be married to my husband. He's the best. You're married. I'm married. I really love Ben, and I shouldn't have added 'if we weren't married'c, Geez, when's..."

"Hey, it's cool." Oliver assured, a laugh escaping him so much so his shoulders shook, "I know what you meant. Are you sure that you and Felicity aren't related? It sounds like there's a pretty decent chance."

His friend denied, "Nope, but I get told I look like Anne Hathaway a lot."

"This may be one of the few things I actually remember from English Literature in high school, but Anne Hathaway? One of William Shakespeare's wives? Felicity also really likes Shakespeare. She knows a lot of stuff about him."

"No, the actress." She corrected with a giggle, tucking a few stray strands behind her ear.

He thought, "Oh yeah? My colleague Bruce said that Anne Hathaway shares a striking resemblance to an old friend of his, Selina Kyle."

"I didn't know you knew Bruce Wayne too? At brunch last Sunday, Felicity mentioned she was wearing him down for a QI/ Wayne Medical Merger."

"Um..." Oliver paused. He had to think of something, anything. He couldn't just let the cat out of the bag that he and five other heroes formed the Justice League, "We go to the same gym whenever my wife and I are in Gotham on business."

"Ah, Nice. I hate Yoga and Crossfit, but you gotta do what you gotta do." She seemed to believe that answer before she spotted their usual butcher, "Hey Frankie. I need a pound of beef chuck, cubed please."

The stout older man figured, "Beef stew night, Jules?"

"Mmm hmm. My husband loves his meat and potatoes." Julie answered, eyes darted down to her purse in search of her bright pink leather wallet.

"And what it'll be for you today, Queenie?" Frankie wondered, pointing his cleaver at him. The "Queenie" nickname didn't fail to avoid Julie's hearing, evidently as she giggled.

Ignoring that little laugh, Oliver replied, "I'm gonna need... Let's see, eight skinless chicken breasts de-boned please."

"Doubling up on the usual chicken cordon bleu I see." Frankie commented, eyebrows raised, "What? You and the Mrs. having a party or something? Why wasn't ol' Frankie Kiner invited to dis shindig of yours?"

"You're a funny guy. We're in Star City not Crime Alley in Gotham, you don't have to refer to yourself in the third person." He told the other man, "The Mrs. wants to take a shot at making my chicken cordon bleu."

"It's never too late to learn that's what I always say. Don't I always say that Jules?"

"Definitely." Julie mentioned, understanding full well about Felicity's cooking skills. Especially considering her "Cajun" egg white omelet last weekend was actually okay, but a little crispy, "And hey Oliver? Be patient with her. She's pregnant, and cooking takes time to master. I did go to culinary school for it after all. Plus when I met Ben at Big Belly Burger, he could barely making fries without them shriveling up to a blackened crisp. Now his sweet potato fries are the bomb. And by the bomb, I mean awesome. Not you know? Like a bathroom toilet bomber, but you probably didn't need to hear all that."

"Again, I got it." Oliver said, retrieving his order, "No need to explain. Felicity and I look forward to seeing you and Ben tomorrow night."

She smiled and waved goodbye, shaking her head when a slight blush brightened her alabaster skin. Her phone rang. "Yes Honey? I'm just picking up some beef. Of course, you can chop up the potatoes. You're so good at that."

Twenty minutes after his trip to the store, the door groaned open. Felicity greeted him with a cute wave, and a big toothy grin tilted his lips when he saw that Felicity was only dressed from the waist up in a wine red blouse and black cotton panties. Thankfully, the QI board members could only see Felicity from the head to torso. The video conference faded to black as soon as Oliver was done putting the groceries away in the kitchen. Sudden Oliver felt his wife's arms loop low around his waist. She pressed a kiss to one of clothed scars on shoulder. Delighted at a gesture that was completely theirs, his lips curled into a softer smile than before.

"Hello, Lover." Felicity purred in his ear, imitating Marilyn Monroe. Yet, he could almost see that little lip bite. "Never mind. Scratch that. There's no way to use the word 'lover' without it sounding creepy. Hey Honey."

"Hey Felicity." His greeting quickly transformed into a groan when her hands sneaked past the zipper of dark blue jeans, right over his gray boxers, "What'cha doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Oliver?"

Her soft hands caressed his length ever so delicately before her wrist started to pump in a slow torture.

"Oh God." Her husband groaned at the mercy of her quickening movements. His eyes squeezed closed, fighting and failing at the urge to thrust against her hand and counter. Regaining a breath, his hand ensnared her wrist, "We just had sex this morning after my jog. You're insatiable, woman."

With a click of her tongue, she assumed, "Hmm, is that judgement or a complaint I'm hearing, mister?"

"Nope. Pride and surprise. I didn't expect you to get like this for another two or three months. You just started your second trimester."

"So what are you gonna do about it?"

He huffed, "This."

Upon that final word, Oliver turned her around easily. Their mouths crashed into each other so much so that their teeth gnashed against each other. Felicity's tongue danced with his as her tugged a few strands of his dark spiky blonde locks. Her rings scraped over his scalped when Oliver's hands cupped her butt as he lifted up with such ease and the crazy strength of his. The only things separating Felicity from reaching the peak of pure bliss for the third time that day were a few pieces of fabric. She struggled to pull off that simple and sexy white t-shirt off of him while his hands squeezed his ass gently. But, eventually they headed for the bedroom. Pleasure washed over them slowly after a long break of sweet and slow loving making before they even ate lunch. His name was like another tattoo on his skin when Felicity whispered it in a heavy breath as her head lolled back. Her name rumbled out of him in a grunt amidst some curse words in both English and Russian when his entire body trembled against hers. A thin sheen of sweat stuck to them, connecting Oliver and Felicity together in multiple ways. She clung to him tightly, both her arms and legs wrapped in no one else but Oliver before his blue eyes met hers. Once the regained their bearings, they got redressed to share a ham and cheese sandwich with some homemade asparagus and pea soup. They went on about their business. Even on weekend, Felicity and Oliver still had a bunch of paperwork to read and sign. Oliver had already taken the liberty of preheating the oven at 350 degrees when the clock struck six

Her ballet flats slapped against the tiled floor as Felicity prompted, "Six o'clock, Oliver. It's chicken cordon bleu time."

"I'll be right there, Babe." Her husband called out, briefly looking up In a hushed tone, Oliver pleaded. "My wife's Jewish, so I don't know if this will even connect correctly. I am Christian, although I haven't been to church. Sorry I get it. I may have tried to be you before when Star City was still Starling City. I don't ask for much. I know that I should've had come to you earlier at many times in my life. You've already me more than I could ever deserve, but please I'm close to begging you to just let this go well."

He strode into the kitchen right beside Felicity. They went over the recipe exactly, step by step. Felicity really enjoyed pounding the meat with a small mallet. Oliver couldn't help but laugh at that. He also revealed cooking was one of the reasons, he solved less and less problems with his fists, or his bow and arrow. She briefly wondered why Oliver liked prosciutto as opposed to traditional ham. He shrugged and chalked it up to a matter of taste and preference. As she combined the meat and cheese with each of the chicken breasts, Oliver noticed she'd overstuffed it.

"What?" His wife sniped pointedly. She could just sense it. Years of learning. 'Oliver speak' and she just knew she may have done something wrong.

Oliver's lips formed a small o shape, he hesitated, "Oh. It's nothing much."

"Oliver."

"You overstuffed the chicken breasts with the Gruyere and prosciutto." Oliver explained, "So it may not cook evenly, but we'll see."

Felicity may have messed dinner yet again, and frustration settled in the pit of her stomach. Her hands started to ball up into fists. When Oliver attempted to reassure her, she snapped. By now she knew herself very well, one of her less admirable qualities was that she lashed out when she was mad. She understood that. She was human. Felicity distracted herself by setting out some plates, utensils, vegetable sides along with some apple cider for herself as well as some white wine for Oliver. Twenty-five minutes later, the oven time went off with a loud ding.

"How's it look?" Felicity immediately question in a hurried breath. Upon the state of the chicken, where filling burst out. The panko bread coating was burnt, yet miraculously the stuffing looked more than a little underdone, "Well, I guess the technical answer to that is shitty?"

She didn't know why she was so upset, but it was evident that her frustrated boiled over. A low growl was emitted through her clenched teeth as she sat down in her chair, pouting almost as if she was that seven year old little girl who didn't get to go to Space Camp for three weeks.

Her husband observed before he sat down,  hoping it would make her laugh even a little at least. "Uh-oh. I know that look. You have pouty face."

"That's my line."

His hopes were dashed by his wife's sharp, angry answer.

"Okay." He realized, stretching out the word as he sat down at the head of the table, "So that didn't go so well."

That commented earned him a sarcastic. "Oh really? You think so? Mmm... You should have-"

"I should have told you that you were over stuffing the chicken while you were filling it." Oliver pointed out as he finished his wife's sentence, "That was my fault, but I purposefully made that choice."

Her arms folded over her chest, "What? Why?"

"Because when it comes to cooking, you have to read directions and be able to multitask. As much of a genius as your are, when it comes to the kitchen you read and lose focus on what you're doing."

"I see so this was all lesson." His explanation had her all whipped, "Well guess what, Oliver? I am not your child. I'm not William. I should be able to do something as so damn simple as cooking, but it can't. I was never the girl who failed at anything except P.E. my sophomore year of high school. I was never that girl, who didn't pick up on things like that."

He wasn't quite sure why this got so much, "You, Felicity Queen are still one of the most remarkable women I have ever met. So, cooking's not your things. I've already told you multiple times that I wouldn't mind doing all the cooking from now on until I'm eighty-six. What I'm not understanding or accepting is why is this bothering you so much? Talk to me."

Her voice quivered, "It's stupid."

A single tear rolled down her cheek as her pearly white teeth were a sharp contrast against her red lipstick.

"Felicity, what's really bothering you? And don't say nothing."

She sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm not Julie. I don't cook like her. I can't help you with tips on chocolate souffles, which the wino moms still tease me about in the neighborhood. I can't talk to you about little tricks and twists on your chicken cordon bleu, which I just ruined."

"Hey." Her husband said softly, reaching for her hand, "I love Julie's food. She's a good friend, but you will always be my girl, Felicity. I'm in love with you, and that hasn't changed for years."

"I know that, and I love you too. But that's not the reason I need to learn how to cook." Hot, salty tears prodded her eyes, threatening to fall. But, she wouldn't dare let them. Stupid hormones and anger.

Mimicking her tone, he honestly inquired, "What is the real reason you wanted to learn how to cook?"

"I'm gonna be a mom." His wife whimpered, hastily sniffing back to the tears that stuck past her, "I'm already a stepmom, and I can't make a decent meal for my kids from scratch."

"I thought we talked about this before, Hon. This is not the 1950's. I don't expect you to be some _Stepford_ wife. I just want you to be Felicity- a happy and healthy amazingly bad ass woman"

Felicity insisted, holding her husband's hand more firmly, "I understand that, Oliver. But it's important to me. It really is. I wanna learn. I wanna better, so our kids can stay healthy even when you're not here."

"Okay," Oliver agreed, helping Felicity out of her chair. "Let's try again."

In the effort healthy habits, their late chicken cordon bleu dinner turned into two servings of grilled lean turkey breasts over a bed of sauteed kale and mushrooms with a side of mashed cauliflower. The mashed cauliflower idea was made by Felicity herself. She may not have got chicken cordon bleu down, but little by little, she was learning her way around the kitchen. The next night, Julie and Ben came over for dinner with a nice fruit juice blend and some freshly baked cookies for dessert along with a side of potatoes au gratin.

Julie greeted, giving her friend a one-armed hug since she had a plate in the other one. "Hey hot mama. Where should put these?"

"Hey, center of the table's fine, and the cookies can go on the kitchen counter."

Rubbing his hands together, the steam from the dish caused his glasses to fog up slightly, Ben licked his lips, "Ooh mashed potatoes."

"Mashed cauliflower actually. Felicity made it herself."

"Awesome. Maybe that will get my husband off his potato kick."

"Babe." He scoffed, slightly affronted as his hand carded through his own curly ginger hair, "You said my potatoes au gratin were perfect."

Julie smiled, "And they are, Honey. Felicity half the batch of cookies has those macadamia nuts that Oliver likes, so be careful. The other half has double chocolate chips like you like."

"Sweet!" Felicity cheered with a fist pump, "Thank you."

Ben and Felicity were going over work like if she had any new tech at QI or if he had seen some interesting scripts in his ad work. Then they compared notes on Ben's potatoes au grautin and Felicity's mashed cauliflower.

He whispered to his friend, both amused at how their spouses were comparing cuts and nicks they earned in the kitchen as if they were war wounds, "Psst, you think you should tell 'em how easy it is to make potatoes and cauliflower."

"No dude." She believed, "No it's cute. Let them have this. You start the meatballs. I'll work on the pasta."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Fic Update Issues and Explanation](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/post/145915354166/fic-update-issues)

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews and Kudos are appreciated.  
> Say hey, and please let me know what you think in the comments.  
> Tumblr: [DMichelleWrites](http://dmichellewrites.tumblr.com/)  
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